


Mutant's Rise

by emorikomwhateverkru



Category: The 100, The 100 (TV) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, F/F, F/M, Fanfiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 05:27:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12834276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emorikomwhateverkru/pseuds/emorikomwhateverkru
Summary: Emori of house Sangre and heir to her country was thrown out as a child along with her older brother for a genetic defect with her hand. Years later, she returns to the capital to conquer the throne and her family for the good of her people.





	1. The Beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> So the first ten or so chapters of this was on Wattpad and I moved them here, and I will be postin them here from now on. I hope you all enjoy :)

It's been fifteen years since we left, and somehow I still don't understand how this town lets their surroundings just smell like literal shit. I hate it, but there isn't much I can do about it. 

Otan is sleeping peacefully beside me when I finally find it in me to raise my head from my pillow, just barely able to see his deformed face from light peaking out the window. When we were younger, before we found South City, we were traveling from place to place and got ourselves into some dangerous situations, at best. He always told me that he was responsible for making sure I was safe and unharmed, as he was the oldest and wanted to protect me. As a result, his body was scarred in the process of him learning how to fight; sure, he had lessons when we lived in the Capital, but those were wooden swords with someone who wasn't attempting to kill him. His face, in particular, was bad. He had several scars, no doubt, but he also had giant blisters from a time when father threw acid in his face. Some may say he was ugly or unlovable for it, but I simply don't see their reasoning. He is a survivor. He isn't like me, who was born with her flaws. 

Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I gently moved from the bed, careful not to wake him as I climbed out, taking this moment of solitude to get ready for the day ahead. For us to keep our heads above water, we must work about 100 hours a week between the two of us. Even then, it isn't enough for buy anything extra. We can't get another bed or buy more than a couple sets of clothes. At the very least, it is enough to keep our heads above water. It could be worse; what if Otan got a wife and had a couple kids? We wouldn't be able to survive, not a chance. 

As the brush runs through my hair after dressing, I hear a sleepy chuckle behind me. "Ready to start your day, princess?" He asked mockingly. I groan at his terrible joke. 

"You can't be a princess if your family disowns you and you disown them." I reply in the same matter of fact tone I use every single time he asks this. As he rolls himself out of bed, I begin putting my hair in a braid to diverge it from my face. 

"How about," He said, picking himself up and sauntering over near me, "You're the princess, and they aren't the king and queen?"

I roll my eyes. "In a perfect world, Ottie." I look back at him and smirk, getting just a shake of the head from him with a small laugh. 

"You'd make better royalty than them anyhow."

"I think you're setting the bar ridiculously low. It wouldn't be hard to be better than them."

**

I hate clams.

I do. I hate how they taste, how they smell, and I hate the people they're served to. They make money, though, which is all that matters. I suppose I wish they didn't have to be my main meal every single day. Shouting out on the top of my lungs that we have fresh clams for sale, I get takers every once in a while. I've built quite the reputation, actually, as having the best clams in the city. 

"Hey, pretty girl," Baylis scruffed, looking me up and down. "You know what I want? I'll take five, along with that nice wrap of yours off." 

Looking down at the wrap on my left hand, I roll my eyes. "I've told you, my arm's broken." 

"Ah, you've been saying that for nearly two years! Take the damn thing off!"

"Just take your clams and go."

He scruffs his face and walks off, muttering under his breath, most likely about how he was entitled to see what was underneath my wrapped hand. Once he leaves, I find myself a bit at peace. The city surrounding me wasn't beautiful, not in the least; it smelled of horse shit. The children were playing in the horse shit that mixed with water from the rainfall last night, barely half dressed in rags. The air was dusty for the horses kicking up so much debris. The houses were little more than shacks in this area, and if there was a major storm there is no way they would ever stay up to protect the people that live in them. No, the city wasn't beautiful. It was something better. It was alive. In the distant, I could hear the singing of some religious choral group. The children playing in shit were laughing at each other's bad jokes. Some of the beggars, who weren't as lucky as Otan and I are, were couples, holding each other's hand and holding a hat together with the other in hopes someone would drop in some spare change. South City had this vibrancy to it that I will never be able to explain; it's so different from the Capital, with their need to be perfect and honorable. Their need to be honorable nearly cost my, and as an extension of him trying to protect me, Otan's lives. 

The sun is starting to go down, leaving rays of red and purple hanging in the sky like a question nobody could answer; it stayed along quite a long time, then gave out at once. At that point, I decide to head home; I don't wish to be attempting to get home in the dark. 

The trail there isn't far, but it isn't close enough to the main part of the city for our eyes to be itching from all the irritants in the urban air. The walk was pleasant, and it's just about dark as I walk through the one-roomed house.

"You get dinner?" I ask as I set my things down, pulling my hairband from my hair. 

"No, I'm going to let you starve," He remarked, rolling his eyes with a smirk. "Yeah, I got dinner. I even managed to weasle in some bread." 

I look back at him, almost surprised. 

"You didn't." 

"Oh, but I did." 

I can't help but grin as he puts a finger up. "But, you can't have it now. Eat it now and we'll both be hungry through the night, and we have nothing to combat that." I roll my eyes at his reasoning. He may be a bit impulsive at times, but when he isn't acting on impulses he is the most reasonable person I know. 

"Fine." I retort with a groan as I move my right hand to the left, starting to unwind the wrap that went from my upper wrist to beyond my fingertips. While I wouldn't dare show what lay underneath to anyone else, Otan was different. If I couldn't be safe with him, I wasn't safe anywhere.

"You'll thank me in the morning." He said with a smirk, taking the unwinded wrap and tossing it with my other things, knowing I wouldn't want to wear it the rest of the night. After wearing it my entire life, I've grown used to it but that didn't mean it isn't slightly uncomfortable and at times a bit itchy.

What lied underneath was the bane of my existence. My hand, with my pointer and middle being fused together, were bigger than my palm. Ring and pinky also stuck together and even bigger. Off to the side of my hand, there were two stubs to what I can only assume were supposed to be additional fingers. It's wrinkled and dry, and the majority of my fingers have no fingernails. This deformity wasn't like Otan's face; he got them from being a hero. He earned the right to have his scars, in many people's eyes. I was born with this. I have done nothing to redeem the fact that I am soiled in their eyes. 

Sitting on the bed, I sigh, propping myself up with my palms against the bed covers. "How was your day?"

He shrugged. "Same old. Still alive, right?" He asked with a smirk. 

I smile a little. "You say that like you're planning on being offed soon."

"I try not to, but realistically the only reason I haven't gotten myself killed is because of you."

That, I have to admit, is true. We even ourselves out, in a way; I'm too careful. If I think that something bad will happen, I run because our safety wasn't worth getting a better quality of life. Otan likes to take risks. His motto is "If you're just trying to survive, you aren't living". We have one thing in common, though; we know how to survive. 

"You better hope you never lose me, then." I reply with a smirk, laying my back against the bed and taking in a sigh. "Can we eat? I'm starving and I might just fall asleep here." 

He rolls his eyes. "You're going to regret yourself." He said before going to his bag, taking out two bags and handing me one. Grinning, I take the bag and wrap my arms around him in thanks before going to my ride of the bed. I tuck myself in before starting to eat the food. 

Gods, I missed bread. The way it just falls apart in your mouth and how easy it is to chew. I eventually decide that I have to save it for last, almost as a dessert. 

Otan laughs. "Hungry?" He asks, to which I nod as I gulp down some of the stew he brought home, which was in a bowl with a cover when I took it out. 

"Starving. Those clams are gross."

"Those clams make money."

"Those statements can exist at the same time."

He shrugs as he sits on his side of the bed, smiling a little. "Fair enough." He comments as he lays down, and I raise a brow. "You aren't going to eat?" 

"I ate mine earlier, I'm saving the rest for breakfast of sorts." He replied with a small shrug, closing his eyes. I can see the fatigue raiding him. I don't blame him; the only work he can get with his appearances was with construction, as everyone else was afraid of him. I would be tired too. "I suggest you do the same." 

Looking down at the bowl and bread, I nod a little. Finishing up the soup, I remove myself from the bed and put the bowl away, and package the bread away in the bag again, as I decide that it would be breakfast, no matter how much I wanted it at that very moment. 

By time I return to bed, it's nearly pitch black and I have issues finding the bed. Otan's snoring the way he does in particularly deep sleep, and I make sure to be gentle climbing into bed again as to not bother him.


	2. An Unlikely proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emori's life is about to change for the worse when her brother is killed and she is taken prisoner.

"You keep swinging like that, and people will say you swing like a girl and then laugh at their own jokes."

The scowl that finds my face soon after sends my older brother into a frenzied laugh, throwing his head back. He wouldn't ever let anyone else see him this way, and I can't help but feel lucky in that moment. He isn't the best at making friends; neither of us are, really. Maybe that's why we're so close. 

The trees here are green year round, unlike the Capital where the snow falls yearly. As far away as we are, we can't hear anything from town and the pollution doesn't hang in the air. It's beautiful; the trees are vibrant, and the sky's a ballgown blue. At night, you can see the stars shining. Otan and I come here often; it's a couple miles from our dwelling, straight through the trees and woods. We eventually made a path here, in this opening between the trees. 

"You keep making fun of me, and I'll find a way to stab you with a wooden sword." I retort, picking the sword up as I stance for an attack. 

Otan shakes his head with a sigh. "No... You're going this all wrong." He said, rolling his eyes. "Stand off to the side more. Give me less room to cause you injury."

"I don't see why you want me to learn all this shit. You always say you want to protect me." I say with a small shrug as I adjust my body to his liking so I'm nearly parallel with the weapon. 

"This is me protecting you." He said, picking his sword up. "There's going to be some day I won't be right at your side when danger comes. You need to be able to take care of yourself then."

"You saying you're planning on ditching me?" I ask, giving a bit of a smirk to show that I truly was joking around with him. 

He laughs. "I'm not planning on it. But it only takes a moment for someone in town to hurt you. I'd be a shit older brother if I didn't give you a way to protect yourself."

I take in a breath of air before exhaling it as a sigh. "Fine... You're right. Again?" I ask, gesturing with the sword. I always hated fighting. With my deformed hand, it was like asking someone with two left feet to dance. 

One moment his own wood sword is aimed at mine, then the next, instead of going at me head on, he moves it in a wide circle before landing it on my unprotected torso. I groan, putting a hand to my face after dropping the sword. 

"You said to stand like that!" I argue

"I didn't say to not be conscious of your front, though. Not everyone fights clean, 'Mori."

I shoot him a glare, and he can't help but laugh just a little.

"Let's be done with this for today, you've been going at it for two hours, and this will be the only day off we have for a while. We should try to enjoy it." He said. I nod in agreement, starting to walk along the path that got us here and that leads home before he can stop me. He doesn't try to, granted. 

After getting home, we put the wood swords away, I put my left hand in a wrap, and go along to get to town. It isn't too far from our little hut on the edge of the woods. As we walk into the dusty road, he looks over and smiles. "So, what would you like to do."

"Buy some more of that bread, for starters." 

He rolls his eyes. "Bread once more than a fortnight? Not in this economy." He said bluntly. It causes me to smirk just a little, though my attention has soon diverged from my brother. Off to the side, the regular from selling clams is in front of me. 

"Clam girl, I didn't know you had such low standards." Baylis gives me a bit of a smirk, and I roll my eyes. Otan looks at him, almost confused before realizing what he was stating. 

"Nice try, he's my brother."

"Then I suppose it won't be a bother for me to take you off his hands," He retorts back. He tucks some hair behind my ear before taking my wrapped hand. "Tell, me, what's with her wrap? She says her hand is broken, but we all know that isn't true."

Otan tries breaking up the tie between Baylis and I. Baylis, though, takes the end of the wrap before it's too late and as he is pushed away, the wrap unwinds leaving the mutation for everyone to see. 

I can feel the blood leave my head and my face go pale. Everyone is now starring at the spectacle that's occurred in the streets, and of course at me. Baylis, in particular, gawks when he sees what he's just revealed to the world. He was probably expecting an amputee with extra stuffing to make up for what was lost. He wasn't expecting this. 

"Frikdreina!" He yells out, and the entire city finds themselves in absolute chaos. Everyone's screaming, and before I know it there are full grown men running at me. Otan tried to fend them off, he truly did. But with over a dozen men ready to run at me? There wasn't a chance he would win, even if he's the best fighter I know. Especially if they have swords and he doesn't. 

He got the first three down, but on the fourth, someone managed to stab him in the back. While he's distracted from this, A man that was near me comes over, stabbing him in the front. He falls. 

It takes three full-grown men to hold me back in that moment. He last thing Otan does as the life falls from his face is shake his head as if to say 'don't look'. I can't move my eyes from the spectacle, though. It's one of those things that are so terrible that you can't stop watching. 

Baylis steps in front of me, studying me as if deciding what to do with me. 

"Should we just get it over with and kill her?" One of the men holding me asked. Baylis shook his head. 

"I have a better idea." He said, smirking, and gave me a tug on the dress. "Bring her aboard tomorrow morning, she's coming with us."


	3. Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emori attempts to mourn her brother as Bayliss suggests for Emori's hand in marriage to attempt to make better political connections with her family.

The image of what happens has been shifting through my mind for what I believe to be two days, from the way the light comes and goes through a crack in the ship's closed and covered window. All I see is my brother's tan skin turning pale as he fell to the ground. The way blood found it's way to his mouth as he looked up at me and shook his head, begging me not to look as he realized he failed in the one thing he's always wanted to do. 

Baylis put me under board in some bunker in his ship. It smells of mildew, and it's only worse from the room having a dampness to it for some reason. I can't step off the bed without my feet dampening. Other than the crack from the window, it's dark. It's also incredibly cold, and I have to stay in the bead to keep warm. Not that I have any desire to get out of bed while still grieving at this point. 

I have no idea where this ship's going. I've considered prying the window open and jumping out to hope that I could swim to safety, but brute has never been my strength, and I don't think I would be able to swim back to shore. I'm better with my wits; the only way I will survive is if I find some way to get from his grasp after we've settled wherever we're going. 

At this moment, I wish I had listened all those times as he ranted and raved about where he's from and how rich he is. It might have been able to help me now. All I know is that I have to get out of here, and I have to survive. Without Otan around anymore, I have exactly one option: run, and run really fucking fast. 

The door squeaks as a maiden in a knee length dress and rubber boots comes, putting a tray of food at the foot end of the bed. She's been coming every day, three times a day. The maiden gives me a small head nod before looking to turn and leave, but I find my voice stopping her. 

"Where are we going?" I ask, almost bluntly. By now, my hands are neatly tucked into the sleeves of my shirt, hiding my left hand. I'm sure she saw it at the fight since she was following Baylis around like a lost puppy, but that doesn't mean I have to practically give her permission to gawk. Besides, it's cold. 

She gives me a look for a long time, as if wondering what to say in this situation. "Lady..." She starts before realizing she didn't know my last name. I just shake my head a little. "Call me Emori." I reply, one reason being because I would rather not reveal my family name, the other being that I don't want to be referred to as a 'lady'. There are many other women who are much more eloquent and graceful than I; on top of that, I do not see myself as someone held with great value.

She nodded a bit. "...Emori, I rest you assured that you will be quite alright. We're heading north to Rosland. Simply beautiful, especially in autumn-"

"I've been." I reply honestly. She isn't wrong, though. Rosland is a beautiful place; trees everywhere, the plants full of life, and it's right on the edge of a great lake that leads into the neighboring country of Aussinst. Unlike South City, it isn't always blistering hot and you aren't always wondering if you're about to die from heat stroke. Sometimes, it even gets cold. Well, as cold as this country could get, anyhow. I've heard that Aussinst gets cold in their northern parts. They even get snow, which I've only heard of from stories. As a child I always pleaded with Otan to bring me there, but we both knew deep down that it was far too dangerous. Leading a couple of heirs to the thrown into lands that were enemies to the royal family was too dangerous a risk, even if the royal couple did not want their children back, nor their children to their parents. 

She nodded a bit. "You'll find yourself quite at home here then, Lady... Emori." She bowed her head before walking out, locking the chamber door behind her. I can't blame her for such a thing for two reasons. First, she was probably ordered to do so. Second, if that door wasn't locked I would have definitely ran, and it's her head that would have paid for it. I can't blame her for trying to save herself. 

I learn forward and take the tray, balancing it on my lap. The stew here, as much as I hate to regret it, isn't bad here. I've thought about not eating it as a sign of defiance, but truthfully that wouldn't matter. He wouldn't care that I wasn't eating, and when the time came I needed to be able to run. Besides, by eating it's supposed to show a type of submission to him, in a way. If he thinks I wouldn't dare put up an act of defiance, there's a chance of me not being locked away all the time sooner. 

As I force the soup, which is obviously still fresh, past my mouth and down my throat, my mind bounces back between two things. The first, the one my mind has been on for so long, was my brother and somehow, some day, I need to avenge him. He was the best person I knew, and I would be a shit sister if I did not bring him justice after everything he's ever done for me. The second, though, is something that hits me like a knife in the gut: What is he planning on doing to, or with me? Is he planning on making me his own personal whore? Is he planning some elaborate execution for me to make a statement on how Frikdreinas are not worthy of existence? Something worse? Most likely very much so.


	4. Rosland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to stop writing chapter summaries until Chapter 9 because it's all here and I wrote this like a month ago, I don't remember what happened in the individual chapters.

Rosland is every bit as beautiful as I remember it being. 

With autumn quickly under the belt, the trees are starting to change from a green to oranges and reds before falling, causing the workers within the castle to need to rake them up. From what I saw, they were bringing the leaves farther away and making a giant pile for the children of the city to play in. 

There were more redeeming qualities than just the leaves, though. It didn't smell nearly as much like horse dung; I mean, every city smells like horse dung, but this city isn't anywhere as bad as South City. The sky is clear, there's plenty of water from everyone from what I can see, and the people don't appear to be starving; though, there isn't that many of them either. 

I've been in the Rosland castle for about two weeks now as Baylis decides what he will do with me. He hasn't seen me since we got on board; not as though I want to see him. I'm restricted to my chambers as I had been on board, but there's one thing different about this room; it's bigger, and probably the nicest place I have ever been, if we are to be quite frank. The bed has silk sheets and a feather comforter. I'm not sure why he didn't just throw me in the dungeons like he did on the ship here. I'm up quite high, and I've considered jumping but know I won't make the fall. My door is locked. 

I still don't know what they are planning for me. Part of me wonders if they're taking their sweet time planning my funeral; what if they killed me at my funeral? That would be quite ironic, wouldn't it? Though I'm not sure if Frikdreinas get funerals.

I'm looking out the window as my thoughts are pulled away from me. Across the room, my chamber door is opened, and I soothe my dress out. I don't like dresses; quite frankly, I despise them. But this is what they gave me to wear, and this is what they considered to be what a good woman would wear. If I want to get out of here, I need to seem like I am playing along. If I am playing along, I have to wear a dress, as much as I hate it.

One of Baylis' servants come in, not holding a tray of food the way she usually came to visit me. She refused to tell me her name, although. "Lady..."

I sigh. "Call me Emori." 

"Lord Baylis would like the pleasure of you joining for dinner this evening." 

This, I might admit, caught me off by surprise. For dinner? Do I get to leave this place? This sounded like a trap, but would saying 'No thanks, I'd rather not' really get me anywhere else? After a moment of arguing within my own mind, I just nod, trying to keep a stoic look on my face. I pull a small, pleased smile to my face and hope it doesn't look as fake as it feels. 

"It would be my honor." Lifting my dress, I start walking toward her. Once I was outside the room, I followed her along the paths throughout the vicinity to find the dining hall. The castle itself must have been thousands of years old, renovated once it started deteriorating. Artwork hung on the walls, only being washed out from the light outside the windows hitting against them. Chandeliers bigger than I am hang from the ceilings

The server sees me looking around the castle, and smiled a little. "Never seen anything quite like it, have you, my lady?" She asks. I shrug and bit my lip. What was running through my head was not awe, but nostalgia. I grew up with paintings washed out with sun and chandeliers on ceilings, and over the years had forgotten what a beautiful sight it was. This may not have exactly been my home, but it gave off the same sort of emotions within me. 

And I'm not so sure that's a good thing. 

The walk down to the dining hall was too far of a walk for me not to question his motives of tucking me so far away. It was worth the walk, though. The ceilings themselves were art, painted with roses and very noticeable thorns. The only problem with anything in the room was the person. Lord Baylis sat comfortably at a table long enough to feed twenty by his lonesome self. He gave a smile and a slight nod in greeting."

"Thank you, My lady. If you could excuse us, I would like a word with Lady Sangre alone." He said, and a shiver runs down my spine as if this were a marathon on how uncomfortable I could get in such a short period of time. The server gives a nod and curtsey before walking out and closing the door behind her. 

Once we're alone, I have to focus on not trying to throw up in his presence. He, like the gentleman he would like to pretend he is, goes and pulls a chair out for me. 

"Take a seat, Lady Sangre." 

I look up and nod, taking step after step before letting my weight relax on the chair he had so graciously decided was in the best interest of him to pull out for me. Once I'm sitting and as comfortable as I could be in this situation, I look up to see him taking his own seat across the table. I look at him. "What brings me in your presence, Lord Baylis?" I ask as nicely as I can muster. 

I've seen better smiles than the ones he gives. I don't think I need to say anything else to help visualize what this image was like for me. 

He looks at me for a moment or two before starting to speak. "Lady Sangre, it occurs to me that you are an heir to the throne. The only one." 

"That does not count when you are cut off, Lord Baylis."

"I'm sure it doesn't, but that doesn't mean that you are not an important asset to the throne. We could truly use you here for our efforts."

"And what efforts would that be?"

"The efforts of trying to keep peace with the royal family as much as possible. We've had troubles before with interacting with the neighboring country across the lake, and would not want to let such distressing things hurt Rosland in the long run." He said. "That, my dear, is where you come in. By marrying you into the family here, you will enact a great treaty between the king and the city of Rosland." 

Realistically, I know this would do absolute shit. Nobody even has proof that I was the rightful heir to the throne. But what other choice do I have? If I am to refuse, it would mean I would most likely die or be married against my will. I would like to deal with the situation where I keep at least some of my integrity, at least. 

"And who's the groom?" I ask for a moment. My eyes go a bit wider when he replies, and I suppose I can not accurately control my facial expressions. I feel the entire earth being tipped upside down and inside out. 

"Me."


	5. An arranged marriage

I don't think that I've ever wanted to kill someone before. Sure, I've had to fight people to keep myself and Otan alive, but it wasn't something I truly wanted to do. Baylis, at this moment, though, was so different. I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and watch as he lost consciousness, making sure it was my left that was cutting off his oxygen. 

Who the fuck did this man think he was? He kills my brother and then decides that trying to use me for his own personal gain was a good idea? This is an outrage; it's a slap in the face. 

The look of horror eventually catches on for him. He gives me a smile, moves his hand forward, and caresses my cheek gently as if him being kind took back the hostility of what he did to Otan.

"I am sorry about your brother, but we have bigger things to worry about now. The ugly bastard would have just weighed everything down." He says, then clears his throat. "Truthfully, we can do this the easy or hard way. You can accept willingly, then in a year or two birth me an heir to Rosland, or you could do all that... not so willingly. Either way, you're here, and you're mine. Even if I know that you hate my living guts at the moment. An heir to the throne being here will only bring closer ties to the Capital which is what we need."

"You killed my brother." I say, my tone running off harder than it should have. 

"And you're a mutant. I'm going to have to look at that thing while fucking you in a couple weeks once the ceremony was underway." He says, rolling his eyes. "We can't all be happy with what we get, you know."

"You can look away from my hand but I cannot get my brother back."

"Would you like to join him? Because arguing your cause in this situation is where that will get you." He says, his throat turning deeper. Realistically, I knew he couldn't kill me, but that doesn't mean he couldn't make my life hell for the rest of the time I am here.

I think for a moment and realize that my case may be blown, but I didn't have much of a case in the first place. Submitting fully was not the way I was going to get out of here. "Let me ask you," I finally say, "How did you know it was me?"

He laughs. "There aren't that many mutants in this country, you know." He stands up before starting to walk toward the doors. "Wasn't hard to track you down, as much as you try to stay on the low end. We just had to get you and your brother in the same place, which is why we waited so long." And at that, he walks out through the doors, leaving me in silence. A few moments later, my servant comes to take me back to my chambers. When I'm in my room again, surprisingly, the door is not locked. It occurs to me just then that that wasn't supposed to be a dinner. There was no food on the table.

**

Looking at myself in front of the mirror, I try to convince myself that I am good at convincing others. 

"I've... I've thought it over, Lord Baylis, and I suppose you're right. I... I loved the lad, but he was so... so..."

Sweet? Amazing? Protective? Those are the only words that register inside my head when I think of Otan of house Sangre, second of his name. 

I sigh, turning away from the mirror and looking outside as I think about what is to come in the weeks and months ahead to come. I am a good liar, but I can't lie about this. I can't say my brother was anything short of someone amazing and betray his legacy more than our parents already have. 

My hand feels for my collarbone, then the necklace around my neck. A small, golden half heart that he gave to me when we were younger. I was upset because I would never be able to wear it due to not having a best friend to share the other half with. He, like the Mary Sue he was, got the matching half heart necklaces and decided to wear the other half himself. I told him he looked like a dork wearing a 'girl necklace', but according to him, the necklace would be the least of his problems. 

It assures me that, somewhere, wherever they put his body, that necklace was around his neck still. I can only hope whoever decides to bury him won't take it off. I like the concept that, even in this small, insignificant way, we are still connected. I don't know what the purpose of attempting to live without him is if I am to be honest with myself. Nobody else wants me. Baylis would like my hand in marriage for him to gain more power, along with having me be his playtoy. The only thing keeping me going at this point is that I know Otan would roll in his grave if he knew I gave up that easily; he didn't spend over a decade protecting me and give his life for it all to just go to waste.

A while later, my door opens once again, and the server comes in again. 

"I'm sorry to bother you so soon my Lady, but the seamstress would like to know what you would like for your wedding. Dress wise, I mean." She says, and walks over starting to take my measurements once again. She reaches my arm, and seems pleased that I have managed to get a scrap of spare cloth to wrap my hand in, not wanting to come face to face with my one major flaw. 

I give her the smallest of smiles. "Tell her something gold. It's my color. And something that has longer sleeves to drape over my hands would be lovely." I reply, trying not to come off as too cocky before dismissing her from my presence when she is finished.


	6. A proposal better than Baylis'

I have a plan. 

The plan doesn't make much sense to me in my head yet. It's bits and pieces I can string together at this point. I can't write anything down to physically figure it out while seeing it; I fear that someone else would see it. But I have figured something out. 

Yes, I'll marry Bayliss, and hope that I don't gag in his presence. I have three weeks leading up to our wedding; in this time, I will isolate myself to seem as though I am grieving. I will take up sword fighting in this time, and take my anger out on my trainer. At first, it will be Baylis, but then I will transition into pretending it to be my dearest brother who my fiance murdered. I will emulate how those with Stockholm syndrome seem to believe their abusers are gods. At the same time, I will be getting training in fighting with one of the country's best swordsmen and can build upon what Otan taught me. Baylis, seeing I am loyal, will give me more freedoms, and then I will run. 

I can't guarantee that it will work. In fact, there's a very high chance he will never let me leave the castle again if he could help it. But this is my best shot if we are to be quite honest. I need to get out of here. If I can help it, I will not end up dependant, barefoot and pregnant on my brother's murderer's behalf. If anything, I would like to murder him.

**

He likes to act sweet, as if him being as nice as possible will make up for what he did. 

"How was your day, Sweetheart?" He asks as he eats dinner that night. He's across from me, and the servants are poking in their heads every once in a while to look at us, which I find to be odd, at the very least. 

At this point, I'm acting like myself, which is easy; I get to hold grudges and snap at him, which is the closest I can get to kill this man. Later, I'll sulk, cry, and then start to blame Otan, as much as I hate it. 

Gods hope he forgives me for using his name in such a terrible way. 

"I want to start sword fighting lessons." 

He raises a brow and laughs, almost in amusement. "What does a pretty girl with a fucked up hand need to swordfight for?" He asks. His comment about my hand irritates me, and I gladly roll my eyes. My left hand is not even in his view; it's under the table, and wrapped in a cloth the same brown color of my skin. He did it to spite me. 

"I just... have a lot of anger."

He smirks. "Fair enough." He said. "Maybe it'll help you lose a couple before the wedding. It wouldn't hurt you." 

I find myself confused by this statement. I am around 120 pounds; in what world does that constitute as needing to lose weight? Any less and my hair would be falling out. Nothing that comes out of this man's mouth makes any sense. 

"Well, good. I'll be looking forward to it." I reply and stand. Just to insult him, I add a little extra in before walking out with a half-finished plate. "Your castle is boring, and I need shit to do besides sit around like some damsel in distress. " As I leave, I see the minor shock on his face. 

He definitely hadn't signed up for me. 

**

When I return to my chambers, there is a raven with a small scroll in its mouth perched on the edge of the window that's inside my quarters. 

I walk over to the bird, and he drops it right in front for me to take and watches as I reach for it. The scroll has a print on it, but it's been so many years that I do not remember which house this belongs to. 

Realistically, I know this scroll is probably meant for Baylis and I probably shouldn't open it. But if I am to live here for a while, and I am to be wedded to the lord of Rosland, that makes me lady, which gives me the authority to open this. Well, at least that will be my excuse when I hand it over. It'll give me some more fight. 

When I open it, though, I see it wasn't for Bayliss at all. In fact, it was specifically addressed to me. 

For the eyes of Emori of house Sangre, the rightful heir to the Sandrein thrown.

We have never met, and that is a deep regret I have, as the people here are quite fond of the thought of you. They have heard the stories of the mutant who has already proven to be better than her parents. They rave at the news of what happened to your brother, and my country as a whole gives you their greatest condolences. They also rave at hearing you are captive in Rosland. Because of this, I am required as servant to the people to free you, along with bringing justice to your brother. But for this, I need you to cooperate. 

I need to know as much about the surrounding territory as I possibly can. I must know the schedules of the people that are guarding you. The amount of weaponry. Anything that's going to be of help. You may give me thanks at a later date, and I know the price I would already like you to pay. I assure you, it is better than the situation you are already in. Mapel (The Raven) will bring your scroll back with him to me. 

Until we meet,

Lexa of house Woods, Queen of Aussinst. 

I can feel my eyes bulge out of my head when I see the information on the page right in front of me. This couldn't be true, could it? This was some sort of trap, surely. With that, what did 'I know the price I would already like you to pay' even mean? Why was this letter so vague? Did she just invalidate this entire plan I've created and submitted myself to? Why the hell did she even care about me? What were the stories her people heard? Why did they even give a shit?

Even with every doubt running through my head at this point, I can still hear Otan's voice in my ear as if he was right beside me. This is the best chance you have. 

For my brother's sake and revenge, I get the paper and ink quill together, then start writing.


	7. Nonconsensual marriage.

The things written back were nothing short of a small novel. It most likely took me a good few hours to write everything, then rewrite everything to put the most important information into a scroll. I know that this is a risk, that this could be my parents or Baylis setting a trap. But if I don't take this, it could be who knows how long before I escape this place. Sure, my original plan may work, but not in a timely manner. What happens if Baylis only starts trusting me when I am wedded to him and pregnant with our child? Would I run with the child? Pregnant people aren't notoriously known for being able to run far. 

I don't think he has thought through me having a child. I was born with my defect, which means it could just as easily be passed down to whatever offspring I have. If it's my choice, I will never have children. Not some that come from me. This world has given me hell for my mutation, and I could never bring someone into this world knowing that they would have to go through something I did. I would much rather pig up some orphan from the streets; assuming I would be able to take care of it, I'd be making someone's life a bit less shitty than introducing another being to a shitty world. 

It's nightfall by the time I am finished writing and revising. Rolling the papers into a tight scroll, it's heavier than it most likely should have been, but it was the bare minimum to which I could get it down to without leaving anything important out. I throw the excess papers that I drafted on into the fire to burn, destroying the evidence that this ever happened before walking over to Mapel, who has been patiently sitting on the edge of my window sill this entire time. I place it down beside the bird, who gladly picks it up as if it were an obedient dog. It almost catches me by surprise. The Capital never had ravens that just waited for someone to start writing something and then leave. I suppose this is something to be grateful for. If this wasn't a thing, I would have to go down to the main rooms and either try to steal a raven or convince some of the guards that they should let me send a raven to a foreign country before telling what I was sending. 

As Mapel picks it up and then flies off, I take in a breath of the now night air as she flies off. I find myself reassured that she is flying the right direction, at the very least. 

"Here's to hoping for the best," I mutter under my breath before turning to prepare for bed, wondering how the queen found out about the wedding so early. 

**

There are officially 36 hours until my wedding, and Lexa of house Woods has not shown any further interest in me since the night with the weirdly named raven. 

The entire city, from what I can tell, is buzzing with excitement toward the event about to take place. Instead of in the castle, the wedding is to take place in the town square. I can see them decorating from my chamber window, though I have not been there myself yet.

I'm still not allowed to leave the castle. I find myself going more insane than the few nights I was on the ship with soaking wet feet. At least there, I could distract myself. Here, I am constantly around Lord Baylis and the servants. Baylis likes to speak about how he will make passionate love to me once we are wedded, and how I will bring him an heir. 

I intend to make that in no way possible. During my times of relaxation, I have been reading up on the many ways to keep oneself from being impregnated. I know I will not be able to keep this up for years, but I would like to stall it for as long as possible. I have started taking Silphium, an herb imported in I found around, and I can only hope it will be enough to stall until I can get out of here. 

If I can get out of here. 

Even without the prospect of children, I am not looking forward to 'making love' with this man.

**

If I wasn't insanely uncomfortable with the situation and it didn't show in my body stance, I would say I look quite beautiful. A gold floor length dress with sleeves that completely cover my hands. My hair is washed, combed and put into an elegant bun. They even bothered with some makeup for me, and it feels weird on my face. 

"Be sure to smile, dear. Today, your life starts. Tonight, you're a woman." I know the woman who is fixing my dress means well, but I do not see the appeal at 'being a woman' at the hands of Lord Baylis. Perhaps because he's barely a man, and definitely not a man that I desire with any portion of my heart. As for the second comment, my life stopped the moment he killed my brother.

Throughout the last few weeks, I have seen this man treat people in cruel ways that I could hardly never even imagine. He has hit his servants around, he has yelled... hell, he broke a plate over someone's head and killed another. This was not someone I wanted to be wedded to for the rest of my life

**

The town square is more beautiful when you are not seeing it from a bird's eye view. The town is humming with excitement and the streamers that were put up fit in nicely with the background of autumn leaves. According to many, I look lovely in contrast to said leaves. 

I can't help but feel as though I was betrayed by Lexa of house Woods. She said she would be here, and yet she is nowhere to be seen. I can hope she will make her appearance sometime soon, but then what? What if I am already barefoot and pregnant by the time she manages something?

People are clearing away from the rug that I am to walk upon, and a long way's away I see my very soon to be husband. As I am nudged by my escort and am forced to start walking forward, I find myself praying to every god that may or may not exist to stop this at once, to take me away in some shape or form, that this is not what I want, that the only thing I wish for is to be alive and not fighting for it. 

By the time I am brought beside Baylis, I find myself hiding a look of anger as I step up. We both look up at the priest, who has scriptures in front of him. 

"Dearly beloved, we bring upon us these two people as they become one." The priest, who is dressed in robes and white hair says out loud. Baylis' best man steps forward. 

"I present Lord Baylis of house Dareen, Second of his name, Lord to Rosland." He says, and I hear a voice behind me speak as I step forward. 

"Lady Emori of house Sangre, First of her name, heir to BloodShed and the country of Sangre."

The priest sets his scriptures down on the pedestal that was set up specifically for this and walking in front of it, going to take both Baylis' and my hands. He attempts to take my left hand, and instead quickly pull away, offering my right from the long sleeves of my gown.

There are murmurs in the crowd about why I disapproved, but the priest didn't seem to mind and tied right hand with right hand in the satin cloth.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, Emori was married off to her captor and the murderer of her brother, Baylis. The first scene goes through everything Emori remembered from the night before and then goes into some detail about the rape she endured at the hands of Baylis. She's badly bruised and bleeding from what he did. The next scene is a few days later. Emori has cut herself off as she tries to process everything that happened that night when a servant comes to her room. This servant was sent from Lexa of house Woods, the queen of Aussinst, who promised to get her out of there because her people valued her greatly and didn't want to see harm come to her. On their way to the docks where the escape boat was, a guard had appeared, and sensing this was an escape, they started fighting. The guard was bigger and stronger, and as a result, the knight was killed. Emori, desperate to get out of the castle, took the knight's sword and fought him as well, but this time killed him by stabbing his leg, and while he was distracted slitting his throat. Baylis hears the commotion and runs after her, but it's too late; by the time he gets out to the dock, she is rowing the boat away from him.

**If you have issues when it comes to reading about rape, I highly suggest reading the chapter summary***

The night after the traditional ceremony is such a blur to me. I remember our hands being wrapped in one satin cloth. The dress had been uncomfortable, and the skin had nipped at my good hand. I felt out of place being the center of attention, hundreds of eyes on me and my now husband. Just thinking about it now sends shivers down my spine at thinking of how uncomfortable I must have seemed. 

I remember the afterparty. The entire city was invited to the palace, mostly on my request since I wanted to make sure they all ate, at least for one day. Feasts always had leftovers anyways, what was the point in hogging it all to ourselves? It's been three weeks and I am still not over the fact that there is as much food as I please to eat. My ribs don't show anymore, at the very least. I knew that by inviting them all, they would be able to feel that joy for at least one night. They would be able to go home and sleep without an aching stomach from not eating that entire day. Baylis had agreed to host it; mostly for publicity purposes, if we're being truthful. 

I remember drinking a lot of wine. Baylis encouraged me in an attempt to 'loosen me up a bit'. I, knowing fully well aware of what was to happen in a short couple hours, gladly took multiple glasses in an attempt to settle my nerves, thinking to myself as I attempted to keep away from eye contact that I was not ready. 

I remember when the sun set, and everyone left with full stomachs and spare to feed them for the next couple days, being escorted by my now husband to his chambers. I remember trying not to throw up from a mixture of nerves, my hatred for the man beside me, and the excess amount of wine I had drunk. 

I remember being stripped of my dress the seamstress had worked so hard on. I remember forced sloppy kisses that tasted of alcohol and wedding food and the cold air of the room biting at me worse than even the actual wedding. I remember darkness, all my senses acuter when I couldn't see as well. 

And I remember the pain. 

I remember humiliation. 

I remember screaming that I needed things to slow down, that it hurt too much and him eventually closing my mouth with his hand because I was screaming too loud and it would inconvenience the others, and my muffles through his hand asking for him to stop, that I would do anything. 

Afterward, as he turned the other way and fell asleep, satisfied that he got what he wanted, I remember feeling weak, small, and used. I remember worrying that this was going to be the rest of my life if I didn't get out of here, and get out of here quickly because things would only get worse as he was proved that I was nothing but his property. 

Now, in the early morning, I wish I could forget some things happening now. 

I wish I could forget the bruises on my hips that hurt too much to even wear a tighter dress. Angry blues and purples leave imprints reminding me of the night before. They make it impossible for me to pretend this wasn't some horrible mistake. 

I wish I could forget the blood. I woke soiled in my own this morning before Baylis awoke. There is so much of it. In fact, I believe that it may be worse than my monthly. The cramping is keeping me in bed (in my own chambers, granted) and I only get up to change the rag. I suppose this isn't normal. I've heard of women bleeding on their first time, but nothing like this. Trying to seek medical assistance seems like too much of a risk, though. I couldn't trust Baylis to not get angry at the fact I went behind his back, even if it is most likely necessary. 

I wish I could get the idea of how angry Otan would be if he found out this happened, and how much shame I feel along with the idea of it. I feel as though I should have fought harder and not have let what Baylis did to me happen. 

**

For the next few days, I can't find it in me to get out of bed. Luckily, the bleeding has lessened, and all that is left is pain and soreness. Luckily, Baylis hasn't bothered me since our night as man and wife, which is good because, at the moment, I don't want to see anyone. I haven't bathed since the night of the wedding and I've gotten out of bed a handful of times, if even that, but I don't care. I'm honestly just trying to process everything that happened.

The servants have accustomed to sliding my food inside the room, only opening the door enough to where I will not be seen from my bed. That's why I was caught off guard when someone stepping into my chambers, not caring to look away from myself. 

"I told you I didn't want anyone to come in, and it's much too late to deal with anyone's shit." It wasn't until I nearly finished my sentence that I realized I did not know the person in front of me. Over the weeks I have come to know the servants that surround me day in and day out quite well. Baylis always says not to talk to the help, but why shouldn't I? I wasn't going to get satisfaction from talking to him. They were interesting, and yet more important hard working people. They had lives that were so complicated, I don't talk about any of them because if I get started I may never stop. 

I did not know the person in front of me, though. 

"My Lady, we seem to have an issue in the main rooms." He said with a small cough. 

"Alright, why don't you get Baylis-" And then I realized what this actually was. I nodded a little. "Give me a moment." I said. He nodded and closed the door enough to where he couldn't see me. I got my wrap from in the corner of my chamber and wrapped my hand. After, I put my hair up wishing I had bothered with bathing as of lately, but I could worry about that later, I supposed. This was most likely time urgent. 

"So where are we going?" I ask softly, enough to where nobody would have heard me. 

"There's a boat docked on the lake. We will be going from there to the palace. Lexa of house Woods awaits you there, Lady Emori of house Sangre." He said with a little nod, a hand going to my back as he guided me. I can't help but feel a weight lifted off my shoulders when he uses my maiden name instead of my name from marriage. 

He started with escorting me out of the halls. I could feel my heart pounding with the realization that this was it, that I was getting out, that I would never have to see pig-headed Baylis ever again if I even so wished. 

My heart started pounding for different reasons, then. In front of us was a soldier guarding the gate. The look on my savior's face made me guess he was not here beforehand. They were dressed in the same uniform which made me guess the Aussinst knight had stolen his somehow. The brute of a man in front of us studied him, then me. 

"Where are you upon to?" He asked.

"Just a stroll in the gardens." The knight replied, realizing how terrible of an excuse that was. 

The guard, seeing through his bullshit, lunged at him.

The knight ended up pushing me out of the way in what was supposed to be a gentlemanly act, and I was forced to watch them fight. They both had their strengths and weaknesses. The brute of a guard was huge; at least three times my size. He wasn't quite that smart, though, which was his downfall. The knight, however, was not too big nor too small, he was not dim-witted nor very clever. 

And that would be the reason he doesn't win this match. 

They hit swords for a while before Brute decided that he could easily just pounce on him and squish him to death. When he got up, I'm surprised to see he wasn't a pancake but was most definitely dead. 

I don't know what posses me, but soon I am reaching for his sword. This is the best I have felt since coming here, knowing there is a chance of my escape. I'm not about to let some giant take that away from me so soon after obtaining it. 

He looks surprised if anything. Then, he starts laughing. A 5 foot 4 woman angrily taking the sword from who was supposed to be her savior. I study him, trying to tell his weakness points the way my trainer here had told me to do it. I don't know what I'm doing; I wasn't ready for a fight, not a real one. I hadn't ever even held an actual sword. 

I try to take in a deep breath. It may not save me from this, but I'll be dead if I don't. 

And then fighting happens. 

He's most definitely stronger than I am, but I can only hope I have something the knight didn't. I'm better at dodging than he is, mostly because I'm used to dodging. Attacking was something he was better at. 

He tried to squish me the way he did the night, but I was able to move out of the way. 

He was down on the ground, And I realized he left something open and vulnerable; his leg. And I took the shot; I stabbed his leg. While he was yelling out in pain and clutching back at his leg, I don't wait until he can stabilize himself once again. I cut his throat. 

Then I hear, from a distance, talking, and I am running before I can see them, hoping it'll be a headstart. They're faster than I am, and by the time I am down to the docks I think they'll catch me before I get in the boat and be off. But they don't. I'm able to start rowing myself off just as they're at the end of the dock, and the last vision I have is Baylis, distraught and confused, watching as I row myself away from him, dirty, gross, and a sword with the blood of his bodyguard on my lap.


	9. John of House Murphy

It occurs to me while I am in the water that if this boat tips over, I'll be good as dead since I don't know how to swim. I have no idea if I'm going the right way. For all I know, I could have circled and be heading right back to Rosland, as it's daytime and the north star isn't out the way it was before the sun rose. 

The knight who let himself be killed for me was smart. He brought food along for our journey, enough to feed two people for the boat trip across the lake, which I have gladly been eating as I rowed the boat. I would have stopped a while ago to take a break, perhaps at night, but I know Baylis most likely isn't far with an actual boat. I have to keep going. 

The one thing I regret is that I did not kill him when I had the chance for what he did to my brother. While rowing, I have decided that I have made a kill list, and he is at the very top of that list. Don't get me wrong, I'm not normally a vengeful person. But he took the only person who would ever love me away from me. On top of that, what he did to me was unforgettable in the worst way. He deserves it and more. I hope all the religions the people around me speak of are true so he can burn in every one of them at once. I'll probably go down with him, but I don't care. At least I'll have front row seating to enjoy the show. 

The landscape, if anything, is beautiful. Crystal waters magnify the sky's bright blue and white clouds. Luckily for me, it was not about to rain anytime soon. This is how it is for a long time, not able to see anything but the sky's reflection until a small patch of dark green appeared in the distance. 

I could only hope I never turned as I put more effort into rowing. After a day and a half on top of not showering for a couple days beforehand, I was gross, I smelled weird, my dress was ripped and torn, and I was absolutely exhausted. I could only hope Lexa of House Woods would let me in after her guard was killed. 

**

When I arrived at the shore, the villagers were surrounding me, surprised to see such a spectacle. A woman with a face tattoo, ripped clothing, a cloth wrapped around her left hand and a sword in her right washing up on the beach of the city was not something one saw every day.

A man stepped forward to speak to me, but after everything that had happened I wasn't ready to deal with almost dying again. I put the sword up in self-defense, and he backed off. 

"I'm here to see the queen," I said clearly. And that's when everyone started laughing. 

The man, thinking that I was surely pulling some prank, started walking forward. I pick the sword up higher now, and press against his chest, just enough for a bit of blood to spill and give him an adequate warning. He gets the message, and motions for someone to go get a guard that was on the streets. 

**

Guards must just be dicks everywhere you go, I have decided. The one with me now is pretty much dragging me along past the city square and to the strange country's Capital. It's beautiful, if I am to be honest. The castle looks as though it could touch the sky, and it leaves me to wonder how this was built in the first place. 

The inside is more beautiful, I decide, as I am being dragged inside. Chandeliers hanging from the walls and window stained glass and marble floors, it looked like BloodShed's castle, but then it didn't at the same time. It's not something I can accurately explain.

The guard drags me until we get to the throne room when he deliberately drops my arm harsh enough to leave me on the floor. "Your Grace, this person says you've called for her." He said, his tone as harsh as his grip. 

When I see her, she is turning to look back at me. Dark hair, light skin, and green eyes stare back at me as I attempt to stand and regain composure, and she takes steps forward, standing in front of me. "Emori of house Sangre."

I find that in the shock of everything that's happened in such a short time, I momentarily forget what I am to do. It wasn't until she started speaking again until I realized I had been somewhat rude. Lexa looks over at the guard and gave him a nod. "Leave us." As he walked out, she gave me a small smile. "You must be starving from your journey here."

**

"So what happened to my guard?" She asks as we were eating what I presume to be a late lunch. "You have his sword. So what happened to him?" 

I sigh a little. "He was... He was killed, by a guard while we were escaping." I admit, picking at my bread. She sighs, nodding. "He always was a bit rash. How did you survive if he couldn't take him?

"Pure fear. I wasn't dying at that point, and I definitely wasn't staying."

"Was it that terrible?"

"It was worse than terrible. That man has done terrible things that I can't even start to explain. 

There was an uncomfortable silence until I spoke again. 

"Why did you send someone for me?"

Lexa looks up from her plate of food and sighed just a little. She thinks for a moment before starting to reply. "When the people heard of your capture, my people nearly rioted." She explained. "Which brings me to my next point. For getting you out of there, I want you to do something for me." 

"And that is?" I ask as I take a sip of wine."

"I want you to take over Sangeda once again." 

When she says this, I start choking on my drink. Coughing, I cover my mouth to say with best attempts "You want me to do what?"

"Let me explain," Lexa said, pushing her food away from herself before leaning in. "Your country, quite frankly, is corrupt from the corrupt person on the throne. You have children starving in your capital, you have far higher crime rates. Hell, we fucking have some of your citizens crossing the border. The city of Clottsing is nearly entirely made of refugees from Sangreda. On top of that, we can not trade with your country because you are not utilizing your resources well, so it hurts my people and the people in the surrounding countries as well." 

By the time she explains everything I've stopped choking, but that doesn't mean my shock has left. "There's problems with your reasoning, your Grace," I say, shaking my head. "First, I do not have an army. Do you expect me to just run in and kill them?"

"I will supply you a starting army. It will get you started." She said nonchalantly. 

"Alright, well what about the fact that nobody will follow me. At all." 

"Why wouldn't they follow you? Anything is better than your parents."

"Because I'm a Frikdreina." I spat out as if it was obvious. "People want to kill them, not make them their queen!"

Lexa smiled a little and stood, started walking around the table. "You know, the people here find your... defect to be quite charming. Like it adds character to what they have all heard about you. Your people will be the same way, once they realize you aren't some freak."

I scrunch my brow as I watch her walk around me. "What have they heard of me?" She asked. 

"That you have managed to survive your city, that you've saved entire villages where people were starving, or under attack."

I shook my head. "That's just from a formal education. If you can read, I'm pretty sure you can do anything. They just need to get in a classroom. 

"How do you learn how to save villages from starvation with a book?"

"Farming and trading policies."

"That doesn't change the fact you did it. In theory, it's easy, but you applied them which is the hard part." 

I sigh, biting my lip and shook my head. "These people tried to kill me. They would never follow me. Even then, why do they deserve it? They have tried to kill me many times. Why should I make their life easier?"

It was true. From the time I was eight until now, many people tried to kill Otan and I. Commonwealth people, Lords and Ladies, it never truly mattered. Everyone hated us equally, even mother and father. 

"Did every single one of the people try to kill you? Are you ready to punish many for the actions of a few?" Lexa asked, raising a brow. "And how the hell is this world supposed to get better if nobody does anything to change it. Don't do anything, people like you will always be targeted."

I sigh. "I don't know, I must think about it," I say as I stand. Lexa nods at that. "Very well. But as you think, I have something." 

She walked over to the doors leading into the dining rooms and coming back with... Another person. Blue eyes and a hair color between light brown and dirty blonde. 

"Your Grace," Lexa said, deliberately using the term used to refer to royalty for Emori, "May I introduce to you your primary adviser, John of house Murphy."


End file.
